A Gentle Few


Welcome home my son
It’s been so very long
I know that you’re here to surrender
The disappointing days
I suffered at your age
Are more than I care to remember
Before you throw the towel
And turn your engines out
Don’t expect to spit all that you’ve tasted from your mouth
After all you seen
You’ll only hope to be
Pretending to be a pretender

The years that I been through
I met a gentle few
Who say that they love and they mean it
The others that I met
Are decent folks I guess
But all that they love is achievement
The swagger and the dress
The trappings of success
The butter and the milk of what it takes to get ahead
On any given night
You’ll catch them dead to rights
Painting their name on the ceiling

Remember in the end
That many of your friends
Would rather be dead than uncertain
They want a simple yes
Or even better yet
A promise the next life is perfect
I promise that it’s not
But then what have they got
Only fifty years they never gave a moment’s thought
Anyone they find
Who tells them otherwise
They’ll follow him backwards and shirtless

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